Oh man, a good morning and all around good day. The prospect of only having to walk five miles really has a way of changing one's outlook! Having consumed almost all the food, everybody's packs were an easy dozen pounds lighter to say the least. As we were packing up our camp, King Street loped on by camp and told us briefly of his July 4th adventures in Bridgeport, which roughly involved ATVs, hot springs, fireworks and rednecks. We climbed up and out of camp and were soon passed by Rocky, hot on our heels from his 4th of July experience in Northern Kennedy Meadows. We chatted briefly about our harrowing experience south of the pass with the electric- and hailstorm and told him of our lunch plans. We continued the climb in earnest, ready for the half-a-day.
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Grandpa and FurrCracker climbing out of camp with Arnot Peak in the background, some debatably aided by alpine chaw. |
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Grandma leads the way as the group drops down to Wolf Creek Pass. |
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A group photo by the buggy Asa Lake outflow, right before the last big climb of the section. |
After the Asa Lake outflow, the climb kicked up a notch and the wear and tear of carting around 50-pound bags became evident as everybody ratcheted their effort back a few notches, almost in unison. Looking back from the top of the climb, Redcoat, Grandma and I gazed longingly at many lakes which had promise for trout. Sadly, we had not been nor would we go to any of them. We did see Noble Lake from the saddle, however. A greenish lake that blended into the meadowy hillsides, our last hope for fishing seemed to be fairly meager.
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Nearing the top of the climb by Tyron Peak. |
We descended to a small outpost at the northeast corner of the camp, Smiles and I receiving some additional Trail Magic from a southbound section hiker along the way, and sat down with Rocky, T-Rex, King Street, Playboy, and (at any given time) about a dozen other day hikers stopping at the eutrophic pond for lunch. Grandma and I fished the lake, wholly unsuccessfully, for about half an hour before giving up. Rocky, Smiles and Salamander all went to high school together, so they had a great time chatting and catching up.
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In the first camp, at lunch, FurrCracker is a happy camper! |
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Fellow PCT thru-hikers King Street, Pepper Flake, Chik-chak, and Rocky join us for lunch at Noble Lake before resuming the thru-hike. |
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The old high school friends (and their significant others): Rocky, Smiles and Salamander with T-rex, Dr. Slosh and Redcoat (staggered order, left to right) |
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Same group, same order, but a better view of the greenish Noble Lake. |
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OK, now just the high school reunion! Smiles, Rocky and Salamander reuniting on trail. We get to see a lot of Rocky, but not the case for Manders. |
After lunch, we decided that the current campsite was not suitable for our growing needs. Alex, Jenna and their dog Darby were coming up to meet us as well (work conflicts kept them from joining for the whole section, which was actually quite beneficial for shuttle logistics), and our experience in the exposed site at lunch was that the place was a wind tunnel. The guys went out to scout the lake for superior spots while Smiles and Salamander waited for the arrival of another large load of food, two hikers, and a dog. We quickly decided that the site on the southeast corner of the lake was better, and upon returning to tell the girls as much, saw that Alex and Jenna had just arrived. Alex was shocked by my rugged(?)/strange appearance with "short shorts and a muu-muu" and wasted no time telling me so (in a jovial manner, naturally). Alex is quite proud of his Dana Designs bag and its ability to carry a load, and wasted no time disclosing its contents: 24 beers, a watermelon, about a gallon of chili, a
Bialetti coffee maker, a hand-cranked burr grinder, a 5-pack of Toblerone, and two pounds of Kirkland steak strips accompanied the rest of his backpacking setup. Accordingly, Alex was dubbed Watermelon for the ridiculous fruit he hauled into the woods (not the first time, either). Jenna was sporting a rather fresh-looking knee bandage, which we thought had occurred on trail. Nope, she had stitches beforehand and decided to keep them wrapped and hike on up. Jenna was thence dubbed Stitches for soldiering on. We all had one of Frank Thomas' Big Hurt Beers, which were dubiously malt liquor in my estimation, and relocated to the bench overlooking the lake. The flat spots were superior, the cooking/fire area protected, and there was a nearby snow bank to keep beers and the chili cold.
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Watermelon, Stitches and Darby McGill (the dog) arrive with some post-backpacking recovery beers. |
After getting set up in camp and snacking, we explored the basin a little bit. We went up and had a swim in the small, shallow bench lake above Noble. The water was crystal clear, though there was about two feet of silt on the bottom. Again, Grandma and I tried fishing the lake unsuccessfully. There weren't any trout that we knew of, at least, and were pretty certain we could have seen them.
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Smiles and I by the lake uphill of Noble, where I unsuccessfully fished. No fish present. |
The rest of the afternoon was pretty much just spent at camp loafing around, chowing down on snacks, FurrCracker and Grandpa collecting firewood, eating watermelon (the fruit), playing with the dog, chatting, and otherwise relaxing. We never did manage any afternoon fishing on Noble Lake. Watermelon's chili was delicious - it contained the famous Boudin Blanc from Taylor's Sausage (Oakland, CA), and was hearty and sumptuous. I boiled water for some Idahoan mashed potatoes to accompany the chili, which seemed to fill everyone up. The fire was cracking that night, and FurrCracker made some delicious pennyroyal tea. Once everybody was sated and sleepy, which didn't take long, we doused the fire and all crashed out with the wind howling through the trees.
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Redcoat mid-snack, probably ready to get back home to his California king-sized bed. Also ready for some ocean fishing, where he knows there will be some fish. |